Way the World Turns
by Kalus
Summary: After all, a lesson can't be taught if the answer is never provided. Finished with wandering, Soujiro returns to tie up loose ends with Himura Battousai. But, it's difficult to find an answer when more than just time has changed.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Hmmm…I actually wrote something again. Acck, its been so long. I hope it doesn't suck too much.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own. You don't sue. We're both happy.

**Way the World Turns**

"Himura-san…you really did run far from your past…" 

It was a quiet town. Very peaceful.

"I do envy you. This is a nice place. Kyoto could never become like this even in the Meiji era." 

It was more than just the quiet. It was the euphoria of peace. Of a town that saw its share of scuffles, fighting, and perhaps even death. But not the mindless craze of a city reeling from bloodshed. It didn't have that texture or the flavor the Bakamatsu had branded into the very foundation of Kyoto.

Beautiful.

"Too bad…" Soujiro smiled as he slipped the map back into his bag. "I wonder how much I'll have to change this city to get an answer, Himura-san." He began the walk down the path. "It's time we tied some loose ends after all."

***

"For the son of the strongest Hitokiri in Japan...you aren't anywhere near as intelligent." Neatly looping the end of his shinai into the collar of the struggling child, Yahiko sighed. "This is the fifth time I've had to drag you off the roof." Smiling nonetheless at Kenji's giggling laugh, he chuckled. "But you've got your father's skills. I couldn't even jump on top of the roof until my fourth year."

The child just smiled as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"You're either going to be almost as good as your father, or you're going to drive me completely insa…"

Yahiko wasn't sure if he was more surprised or resigned when the customary blow to the back of his head almost knocked him unconscious. Either way, any desire to tease Kenji immediately vanished as quickly as the stars dancing across his vision arrived.

"Stop teasing my son!"

"Teasing?" Yahiko indignantly glared at the offender, who of course had to be one certain Kamiya Kaoru. "I just saved him from breaking his neck!"

"It's ok honey." Deftly lifting the boy of the end of his shinai, and just as easily ignoring his comment, Kaoru cooed softly, "I won't let my bratty student hurt a single hair on your head."

And that was Kamiya Kaoru for you. Or more accurately, Himura Kaoru.

Maybe because it was just the early morning sun. More probably it was just the effects of the light concussion. But watching the kendo teacher shower affection upon her more than willing son, Yahiko was struck by how naturally maternal she looked. He never would have guessed it…especially not after all the bruises, migraines, and near-death experiences she had inflicted on him.

But she made a wonderful mother nonetheless. Yahiko smiled. She was more of a mother to him than anyone else. It shouldn't be much of a surprise.

"What are you staring at?" Yahiko instinctively flinched from the dark glower that was shot at him. Wonderful mother or not, she was still a strong woman. That, like many things in life, probably just wouldn't change.

"Nothing…nothing…" Smiling weakly, he looked around the dojo. "Where's Kenshin?"

"Kenshin?" Kaoru frowned as she pursed her lips in thought. "He just finished washing the clothes, re-waxing the dojo, tiling the roof…"

Yahiko definitely began to see a pattern here. For the better part of going through the rest of the day without having to worry about mental damage, he decided to remain silent.

"…and I did ask him to buy tofu just a moment ago…so I would think he'd be in the backyard resting." Though she hid it well, Yahiko noticed the flicker of worry cross through her eyes. "He should rest more. I always tell him to rest more."

"It's Kenshin. Don't worry. He knows how to take care of himself."

"That's just what Sano says." Kaoru frowned. "Always wondering around god knows where if I don't keep an eye on him. Never takes a single good look at his health before going outside." She smiled ruefully, "I am his wife. It's my job to nag to him all the time…maybe I'm just being the overprotective one…but you too Yahiko. Don't stress Kenshin that much anymore…"

"Kaoru?"

Kaoru hesitated a long moment before brushing her hair back and replying quietly. "He's growing old…Kenshin. He's forced himself so much that he's burned all his energy away. Megumi-san is worried too. He's ageing a lot faster than he should...but he won't tell anyone. He doesn't want to worry anyone. Even when it's his own wife." She sighed softly. "I think part of me is still scared I'll wake up one day and find him gone."

"He's not a rurouni anymore." Yahiko shook his head. "That'll never happen."

"…I know." Adjusting Kenji on her shoulder, she smiled as the boy cooed with pleasure. "I know. Because he gave me a son…because he gave you his sakabatou."

"No." Yahiko shook his head. "Because he met you."

And all Kaoru could do was blush.

***

He was…still was…the greatest swordsman in all of Japan. Of that, Yahiko never really had any doubts. He came back, bloodied, battered, within inches of dying…but he came back. And that was always the most important part. That he come back.

It was not just the Hiten Mutsurugi Ryu that made him that way. In truth, Yahiko believed he could have made any sword school great. Just by wielding the blade. Just by staying true to his beliefs…his words. Always, Yahiko found himself staring in awe at the back of the figure that always walked so far in front of him. Through all the battles he had fought in and the times he had placed his life on the line…no matter how many steps he took forward, Himura Kenshin stood in front with the distance between neither shortened nor lengthened.

And then ten years had passed. 

Some things changed. Kenshin had cut his hair short and the scars on his cheek faded more every time Yahiko saw them. Kaoru had given birth to Kenji and, for the most part, given much of the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu to him. Megumi had moved her doctor practice to Tokyo where she had been quite successful. Sano had sent a letter saying he had traveled over two thirds of the world and was trying to find passage to the United States. The Aoiya had become a very popular tourist attraction after being rebuilt and was planning to reopen after renovations over the next fall.

Everyone was finding their own path. Everyone was moving towards a direction he could neither see nor follow. He was of no exception. Kaoru had begun sending him to more dojos as of late through most of the southern and eastern parts of Japan. Though he still doubted how well he could deal with it, not even Kaoru bothered to hide the fact that he was going to inherit the entire Kamiya Kasshin Ryu.

And now, at the age of 20, Yahiko could begin to appreciate just how all the paths began with one rurouni.

Where would they all be without?

Megumi would probably be dead or making opium to some drug lord. 

Sano would be just another nameless fighter beating his next meal out of another poor ingrate.

Kaoru would probably have lost her dojo or have lived the rest of her life alone.

And Yahiko…he would just be another urchin on the street of the Meiji era. Another orphan whom no one wanted.

He was thankful. By God he was. There were times he would wake up shaking uncontrollably at the thought of what else could have been. Kenshin had become such a set part in their lives that it was really difficult to think about it any other way. 

True he was just a man…but that didn't change the fact that he was as superhuman as they came. Though he had seen for himself how beaten Kenshin was after his fights with Shishio and Enishi, it had never really occurred to him that they really affected the samurai. He had taken for granted, much like everyone else, that the wounds would heal and disappear. That when he was needed, Kenshin could just as easily get up and wield the sakabatou.

Stopping at the backyard, Yahiko nervously clenched his fist together. "Kenshin…you are alright aren't you?"

"Yes, I am sure he is quite alright. Thank you very much for worrying though." Yahiko jumped slightly as the calm, soothing voice came from behind him. Smiling at his discomfiture, Kenshin set the wet laundry against the post and asked, "What would make you think he wouldn't be?"

"Nothing…nothing really…" 

"Talking to Kaoru-dono again?" He laughed. "She worries too much."

"Well," Laughing with him, Yahiko agreed. "It is her. She's either worrying her heart out or hitting you over the back of the head."

"I'm sure it's not that bad. Would you like to help me place all the laundry up?"

"What? Me? Do woman's work?" 

"It's not really all that…"

"Sure." Interrupting, Yahiko grinned, "Well, if it's with you, alright. Where do I put the whites?"

***

"And then, I caught the sword right in my hand and snapped it in half. Just like a twig."

"Excellent form. I never had that good coordination."

"My students are getting so lazy. They complain so much at the smallest things. I tell them to do it again and all I hear is whining and complaining."

"Not so different from you when Kaoru-dono began your training."

Yahiko made a face as he bit into the rind of the watermelon. "Don't even compare us, Kenshin. These little punks already want to go on to REAL swords. I told them to be quiet and master the shinai before even dreaming about going on."

"True. Very true." Reclining on the porch, Kenshin smiled. "You have grown a great deal. It's already been 5 years since I gave you my sakabatou as your genpukku. I'm glad to see you are beginning to wield it as well as I ever did."

"What?" Yahiko shook his head viciously. "No, I'm still a LONG way to becoming anywhere NEAR as good as you are." He pointed a thumb at himself. "But I'm working hard to though Kenshin. Someday, I'm going to be just as good as you are."

Instead of responding, Kenshin stared at him intently. There was something disturbing about that stare…nothing like the ice that formed in the back of his neck when Kenshin went into his Battousai mode…but disturbing nonetheless. It seemed to pierce his soul and read every inch of his mind. Swallowing in the nervous silence, Yahiko asked, "What?"

"Yahiko…why don't we have a spar?"

"What?"

Getting up, Kenshin lightly dusted his gi. Walking to the back of the dojo hall, he took a shinai mounted on the wall and lightly held it in one hand. "Let's spar just a bit. You and me." He flashed a smile. An old smile. "Like we used to."

Yahiko remembered it very well. How he could swing the sword a thousand times and always expect to hit nothing but air. It was difficult…no, it was impossible…for him to even expect to land a blow. Too fast. Too strong. Kenshin wouldn't even begin flinching when Yahiko was already covered from head to toe in sweat. 

That was Himura Kenshin. Someone who could never be defeated by anyone who held a sword. 

That was the way it would always be.

"Like it would make a difference…" 

Setting the sakabatou to the side, Yahiko drew back as Kenshin shook his head. "No. Use the sword I have given you. You are its master now. I did not give it to so it would remain in its sheath."

"But…"

"You are a swordsman Yahiko. Do not ever be afraid to grasp your own blade. Draw it with a full heart."

"…alright." Lacing it back into his sash, Yahiko took his position opposite of Kenshin. Sliding the sakabatou from the seiya, he assumed a ready stance. "I'm ready."

"Good." Kenshin did likewise. "Here I come."

Kenshin's ken-ki was a dangerous thing to charge into unprepared. The coercion, the inability to rationally make a decision…the indecisiveness…all these feelings were instantly read by it and created by it. At his genpukku, Yahiko still felt completely overwhelmed by the aura though he already knew what strike he would go for and what counter Kenshin would make. Standing here, the knot in his stomach once again built up as sweat made it difficult to keep his firm grasp on the sakabatou's hilt.

He blinked once. And Kenshin was already gone.

He was fast. Indescribably fast. Closing the distance in a heartbeat, Yahiko barely spun away as Kenshin's shinai lanced forward and barely missed his temple. Changing direction mid-pivot, Kenshin followed his awkward dodge, aiming the swing to hit his diaphragm. 

_Shit! _The smack of wood against metal was deafening in the otherwise quiet dojo as Yahiko managed to bring the sakabatou across and block.  It was a difficult to completely negate the shock, and the hilt jarred harshly against his wrist as Kenshin likewise applied pressure. Gritting his teeth, Yahiko placed both hand firmly against the stock and pushed outwards, breaking the deadlock.

He still didn't have enough arm speed to compete with Kenshin at point blank. Though he had grown slightly taller than Kenshin over the years, the pure speed Kenshin possessed completely made his longer arm reach useless. At this rate, he would spend the whole battle just trying to defend without even getting a good swing in. Fending off a quick jab, Yahiko stumbled back as Kenshin broke left and aimed a blow at his blind side. 

He managed to block the brunt of it, but the leftover force dumped him off his feet and swept him across the hall. Turning the fall into a makeshift shoulder roll, Yahiko crouched with the sakabatou across his face as he expected the counter. 

"Creativity.  A good sense of your weaknesses and how to compensate for them. Very good." Kenshin pointed the tip of the shinai at him. "But you're too worried about defending than attacking." His eyes narrowed. "It's as if you're expecting you can't keep up with me…when in fact, you already are."

_Keeping up? You're Kenshin! Are you…_Yahiko paused as the thought flashed too quickly through his mind. Fighting like this…watching his step so carefully…this wasn't the way he fought. Kenshin was fast, it was true, but he had watched the swordsman long enough to read him better than this. Taking a deep breath, Yahiko closed his eyes and forced the tenseness in his shoulders to loosen. __

_I've been trying for so long to catch up to you, Kenshin…that I've never let myself see how close I am already. I've always been so far behind…_

"I'm going to see how much distance has closed." Yahiko opened his eyes and assumed a stabbing position. "Prepare yourself."

"A stabbing strike?" Kenshin brought the sword perpendicular to his back and crouched slightly. "You've been watching Saitoh's Gatotsu too much. But strike hard…and strike clean. Or you know what else comes next."

"Hiten Mutsurugi Ryu. Battou-jutsu. If anyone can do it with a shinai, it would be Himura Kenshin."  Though his tongue was glib, Yahiko knew the sweat on his forehead was more than just exertion. Battou-jutsu…the mainstay of Kenshin's swordplay. Rush in, and the blade would kill you. Stay back and the blade would move forward and kill you. The perfected defense with the perfected offense. 

His stomach began aching slightly at the memory of the strike he had taken during his genpukku. True, he had managed to score a double hit with Kenshin…a fact that to this day still surprised him. But the strength behind the blow could not be compared. He had dropped hard and the bruise had taken over a week to fully heal. 

He had learned there though, that an overhead strike like he had tried was impossible against Kenshin's Battou-jutsu. There was too much of his body he left unprotected, especially since Kenshin always favored striking the lower torso. So it came down to this. His crude makeshift Gatotsu. 

_Ignore that. My technique is already different from Saitoh's. _Yahiko forced himself to focus. _Think Myoujin Yahiko. He's doing a Battou-jutsu without either a sash or a seiya. I might not be as fast but at least I can start to compete. Aim for shoulder…right at the shoulder…_

"Let's go."

Lunging forward, Yahiko brought his blade back to generate more momentum. At the same time, Kenshin's right hand blurred across his body as he began lowering his shoulder to meet him. 

"COME ON!" Throwing all his weight forward, Yahiko braced his foot against the light tarp and thrust his sword forward…

It was a good strike. Perhaps one of his best single strikes over. But even before his sword grazed nothing but the wind where Kenshin was but a second ago, Yahiko knew that once again, when it came to the unexpected, no one even rivaled the swordsman.

Ryu Tsui Tsen.

The blow came from above, catching him right below the neck. Neatly jumping over his attack, Kenshin had never planned to go Battou-jutsu from the beginning. The stabbing position which he had taken to guard against the low sweep of a Battou-jutsu did nothing to prevent the full shock of an overhead strike. Already unable to control his weight, Yahiko felt the pressure begin to cave in the mat as his legs began to buckle.

Perhaps he was fortunate. The weak wood of a shinai, already designed to absorb most of the damaging effects of the technique, kept him from blacking out immediately. He shouldn't be too surprised that he had lost. That by trying to outthink Kenshin he had already lost from the start. It would not be the first time that had happened.

_I'm going to lose…_

And still…

_Even if I've lost yesterday. Even if all that will happen is that I'll lose tomorrow…_

Summoning energy from somewhere he had no idea existed in the first place, Yahiko managed to stand through the shockwave that sent ripples across the tarp. As Kenshin finished his sweep and landed in front of him, Yahiko was dimly aware of the disbelief in the swordsman's eyes upon seeing him still on two feet.

"Even if I lose every single time afterwards…" Bracing the sword up, Yahiko screamed, "I WON'T LOSE TODAY!"

Ryu Shou Sen Modoki!

The counter caught Kenshin completely by surprise and completely unguarded. Though old reflexes managed to catch the tip of the blade, a shinai was no match for a fine blade already repeatedly battle tested. Cleaving through the wood like butter, the rubber tip of the shinai spiraled off and landed with a soft clunk on the mat. 

Unlike Kenshin's broken shinai, the sakabatou had very little to absorb its shock. Catching him right under the ribs, the blade's lack of a cutting edge did little to dull the impact. Rather, without the flesh giving way, the full force was straight into Kenshin's body. The results went without saying.

Quite literally, Kenshin's body was made airborne as like a crumpled wad of paper, the impact tossed him backwards across the room. Slamming hard into the wall, though the fragile wood managed to hold, the entire training dojo shook as if thunder had just struck outside the courtyard.

Then just as quickly, all became silent. Finally collapsing from the exertion, Yahiko panted past the ringing in the back of his head and the sour taste of acid on his tongue. His vision spasmed between blurriness and abrupt clarity as the ache on his neck began swelling viciously. 

It was understandable when he either didn't or couldn't notice the sliding door from the dojo slam open and Kaoru's sharp scream. 

"KENSHIN!"

***

"Young man!" Soujiro winced at the sharply disapproving voice. "Now where do you think you are going with that?"

"Oh, my bag?" Spinning around and attaching a guileless smile to his face, he hoisted the leather bag loosely in one hand. "Well, I've just traveled so far that I was hoping to find an inn to stay the night."

"Don't be smart." The officer pointed at the hilt jutting from his sash. "Swords have been outlawed on civilians since the Meiji Era."

Attaching his best, Oh My Goodness! How did that get there face, Soujiro waved his hands appeasingly, "Surely a traveler wandering by himself across Japan deserves some form of protection. I am not a very imposing man and I have very few belongings. I don't wish to cause trouble." _Well, not any trouble I wouldn't want you to see anyway…_

"Absolutely not! The law is the law!"

Soujiro smiled nonetheless. "Surely you can make an exception…"

"Unless you are Himura-san, which you surely are not, I don't see any reason why I should."

"Himura?" Taking a step forward, Soujiro felt his pulse quicken. "Himura Kenshin? He lives close to here?"

"Why of course! At the Kamiya Dojo. Do you have business with him?"

Almost instinctively, Soujiro traced the line across his chest where the ougi had changed his whole life. Relaxing, he nodded his head and let the naïve façade fade. "Yes…I suppose you could say he is the reason why I am still carrying this blade. I have not seen him in a long time…I would think he should be expecting me."

Instantly the officer's attitude changed. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? If Himura-sensei is expecting you, then I apologize for getting in your way. Stupid bureaucratic red tape anyway. I should have known?" He beamed, "Swordsman are you?"

"You could still say that."

"Great man! Have you come to receive his tutelage?"

"…Perhaps." Soujiro chuckled. "Perhaps not. I have already learned too much from him." 

"If anyone can teach you anything about the sword, it would be him. Of that I am sure!"

"You're probably right. I suppose it would be like that…" Sighing, Soujiro unhooked his katana from his side. "Fine. I've changed my mind." Tossing the blade towards the befuddled officer, he turned around. "I give up Himura-san. I'll have to find my answer from you in some other way."

"Young man…"

"Eh?" Waving the officer off, Soujiro grinned, "It's really of no consequence. I never liked that blade anyway. Don't worry about keeping it for me. I won't be coming back to get it."

"But why…"

"It's ok. You're weak. You're not supposed to understand." Soujiro turned around. "I'm still weak. So I still don't understand either. Take it as you will."

***

"What were you thinking Yahiko!"

"I'm…I'm sorry…"

"From the rooster-head, I know I can expect some stupid things. But not from you! You're the successor of the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu! Quit moving!" Brusquely brushing his hands away, Megumi grimaced at the bruise on his shoulder. "Were you two really sparring? Men and your testosterone…I'm going to need a poultice or this is going to leave a scar."

"I…I'm sorry."

"You said that already!" Wincing a bit at the snappish tone in her voice, Megumi sighed and busied herself with tending to the wound. "You're twenty now Yahiko. I shouldn't have to come here and deal with a half-hysterical tanuki and Ken-san beaten almost to a…" She trailed off as the guilt and shame in Yahiko's eyes forced him to lower his head. "Don't look away from me boy. Thankfully there was no hemorrhage. Just some bruised muscles and no broken ribs. You didn't cause any unreparable damages so we can both thank our luck for that."

"I…I just didn't want to lose…ouch…" 

"Bear it like a man." Washing away the rubbing alcohol, Megumi lightly tapped him on the side of his head. "Now what got into that skull of yours?"

"Every other time we fought, I didn't mind. I didn't expect to win…I thought it would just be good training. But today…" Yahiko trailed off.

"Today?"

"Today…I couldn't lose…because this might be my last chance."

"Last?"

"Kenshin…." Struggling to find the right words, Yahiko shook his head. "Kenshin is growing old…isn't he?" Megumi watched on stiffly. "And…between him…and me…I needed to show that someday I could be his equal. That I wasn't the same brat he picked off the street so long ago." 

"…ok. I'll pretend I understood what you were saying. Did you find your answer then?"

"I…I don't know."

"Then you are much, much stupider than that rooster-head will ever be." Standing up, Megumi glowered down at him. "If you think Ken-san ever thought of you as anything less, you are just extraordinarily stupid. The only one who has been doubting you is yourself. Just because of your inferiority complex, don't take it out on Ken-san."

"I…I didn't think I would win…"

"Honestly, you and everyone else think that Ken-san is still the same person who fought Shishio. Even he does!" Megumi pointed at herself. "I'm his doctor so I know Ken-san's body better than anyone else. His body began giving out quite a while ago. If you were seeking a duel with Himura Battousai, you should have beaten him to death far before Enishi ever did. You stupid boy! There's a reason he gave you his sakabatou. To do what he could no longer do."

Yahiko fell silent, unable to meet her eyes.

"But more than that, Yahiko…I just feel very disappointed in you. Ken-san was more than just a father to you. He raised you. He believed in you. I think it would hurt him very much if he knew all you thought of him was just another rival you needed to compete with. His growing old or not growing old will never change that. I can understand sparring with him. But that's a dangerous mindset to have. I can understand not wanting to lose. But I can't understand your desire to win at this cost. Think over it carefully."

Sliding the door shut, Megumi left Yahiko to ponder very carefully over what had just been said.

***

Inside the next room, the conversation did not differ much.

It probably had not been such a good idea, Kenshin admitted to himself. Like Yahiko, he had taken the spar too seriously. "I'm fine…I'm fine." Holding his wife close against him, Kenshin felt a wave of relief that the worst of the hysterics had passed. "It's nothing serious…"

Kaoru, who had never taken his injuries well in the past, had exploded as soon as Megumi had finished her diagnosis. He had remained silent through her bouts of accusations and entreaties and finally just held her when she ran out of words and threw herself into his arms. She had been crying hard for the past fifteen minutes nonstop.

"No. It's not that simple…" Kaoru murmured against his shoulder. "It's not as simple as it used to be."

"Kamiya Kasshin Ryu has sworn never to kill…like my sakabatou. There wasn't any danger."

"NO! You baka!" Pushing him away from her, Kaoru glared at him. "Megumi already told you your body couldn't handle Hiten Mutsurugi Ryu! You aren't the Hitokiri anymore Kenshin. You aren't even a rurouni anymore." She placed a hand on his chest. "You're my husband. My heart almost stopped when I saw you unconscious in the dojo."

"Kaoru-dono…"

"Kamiya Kenshin Ryu was made to be used against any opponent. But not you. Never you. Because to Yahiko…because to me…you are the most important thing. If you were hurt because of my technique…if you were killed because of my technique…I would never forgive myself."

"It is the same for me. It will always be like that."

"Rest Kenshin. That is why you gave Yahiko that sakabatou…because it is his time now. You have a son to care for. This time, if something happens to you…" Kaoru's voice grew thick with fear, "If something happens to you, it won't be just me. It will be Kenji. I don't want him to grow up without a father. If you always keep on pressing your body, something horrible will happen."

"Is that what you're afraid of Kaoru-dono?" Kenshin smiled. "Don't worry. No matter what happens, as long as you are safe…as long as I know you're their waiting for me, I'll always come back."

"But…" Bowing her head, Kaoru gripped the lapels of Kenshin's gi tightly. "…you always push yourself. When people need help, you always can't stop yourself. You always end up doing stupid things that get you hurt. Let Yahiko do what you can't do. Think about the people close to you who need you the most."

"Like you?" Kenshin laced his hands through hers. "But I always do that."

"Stop trying to sweet-talk me. It's not going to work this time!" Though her voice was harsh, she made no resistance when Kenshin pulled her closer against him. Sighing, she looped her arms around his neck and whispered, "You promise you mean that though?"

"I promise."

"Don't ever go anywhere without me Kenshin. Because I'm your wife, I love you more than anything else. When you hurt, I hurt too. Don't do anything stupid like this again. I'm going to have a good luck talk with Yahiko after this too."

"He's strong. He takes after you more day after day."

"Baka. It's you he's becoming more and more similar to. It's you he wants to be like."  

"He's going to be stronger than I ever was. I saw it in his eyes."

"So let him grow then Kenshin. You've trained him long enough. Let him start walking by himself…" Kaoru kissed him. "And spend more time with your wife whose been waiting her turn long enough."

"Hai…Kaoru-dono."

Distantly, the front gate of the dojo opened and with a dull thud, slammed shut. The heavy sounds of wooden clogs against a concrete pavement slowly thinned out and over time, disappeared altogether.

Kaoru growled softly, "Where is that idiotic student of mine going now? I still need to talk to him."

"Let him go." Kaoru blushed deep crimson as Kenshin nuzzled the side of her neck gently. "It's like you said Kaoru-dono. He needs to learn how to walk by himself…and that I should spend much more time with my wife."

"…Kenshin?"

"Yes?"

Leaning close to his ear, she whispered softly, "I asked Megumi to take Kenji home with her tonight." Pushing him back against the futon she followed his descent and kissed him deeply.

It was strange…that so much of her life would begin to revolve around one man. When did it really start? When did she really begin to become unable to cope with living without him? 

As Kenshin began responding to her invitation, any real effort her mind was trying to make to begin answering those questions quickly dissolved. It really didn't matter much after all. Perhaps it was better that they come later anyway.

***

Well, if the answer would ever come at all.

It hadn't come in 10 years. 

"Isn't that oddly disappointing?"

With the blade…without the blade. Killing…not killing. For such profound lessons, Soujiro never really could differentiate between doing so and not doing so. It seemed a strange thing to say.  But it was the only definite conclusion he had come up with. Though the weak did not necessarily deserve to die…and though protecting the weak had not been wrong…

They still died. And still the strong fed upon them. Of that, Soujiro likewise could find no other way of denying that irreversible truth. Shishio had not been wrong to hold that mantra so close to his heart. But Himura-san was also not wrong in wanting to save the weak. To protect them. 

So it stayed a paradox. To save the weak before his eyes. To protect them from the suffering they endured. And yet, to understand that the weak who remained weak would never change…and how he could ever protect anyone if he was one of the weak. Though Himura had so vehemently denied it, strength was still everything. Strength was the only way anyone could protect anybody. 

It puzzled him so much. This strange definition was not the answer he had been seeking…it could not have been the answer that inspired Shishio to assemble the Juppon Gatana and begin the Kuri-Tori. It could not have been the answer that inspired the great Hitokiri Battousai to pick up a reversed blade. 

It seemed almost a waste of a decade…if he preferred to think about it that way. In same ways, his journey had not been as difficult as the rurouni. There was practically no one who knew who the Tenken was…and the government seemed more interested in dealing with its own internal problems than trying to locate one stray boy, no matter what his prowess with the sword should be. 

And so, his journey remained peaceful…a fact which he was actually quite thankful for. But it had left him likewise feeling very empty sometimes. And to some extent, very alone. Smiling, Soujiro allowed himself some nostalgia. Yumi, a coarse woman in the exterior had a far more gentle heart than anyone gave her credit for. And….Shishio, though a demanding teacher, had in no way abused him to the degree his blood relatives had. It…it had not been such a horrible thing…being the strongest of the Juppon Gatana. 

Through the blade he had found comrades. Through the blade he had become the second strongest man in the world. His emotion lock had kept him from truly appreciating what he had. 

It was curious to see the world through feelings other than amusement. The world he had learned was more than just a game he could understand with a smile. True, happiness and joy felt refreshing…but the irony lied that he never truly understood them without feeling anger or sadness either. 

"Well…was it worth it?" 

Questions…that was all he really ever found.

"Sir? Can I take your order?"

"I'll take the reason I exist with a side of everything else you might want to add."

"Excuse me?"

"A bottle of sake will do fine on the other hand."

Well, if enlightenment wouldn't work, getting drunk would be the next best thing. Like most things worthwhile, the things worth learning were the lessons he had learned by himself. Alcohol was something he had trained himself to like. 

Well…maybe not like. "Still bitter…" Smiling at the aftertaste that left a horrible tang in the back of his throat, he chuckled. "Always bitter."

The waitress smiled at his comment and went on her way. Soujiro reminded himself that he should leave a generous tip for her patience. He already had enough troubles dealing with himself….rarely would anyone else do so. Ignoring the burning in his throat from the sake, he drank enough to keep half the world fuzzy. 

He didn't hold alcohol well. At all. His unusually glib tongue just went out of control. It was kind of fun…almost. Letting his muscles relax, he leaned against the back wall and let his gaze drift. It was a nice, noisy restaurant. The Akebeko the rather gaudy sign in front proclaimed. Shishio enjoyed only the finest food and Yumi took many measures to ingrain in him Western dining manners. Dinner always seemed somewhat strange as, naturally, at the head of the table was the new Battousai and across the table was a prostitute. Either way, mealtime was just a respite from another round of grueling training that left him unable to appreciate either the food or the decor.

To relax like this…to let the natural sounds and feel of a natural world was one of the new experiences he enjoyed. The baby across the corner crying loudly with the patrons beside the table tactfully ignoring it. The laughter that always came from the other table from people who were a bit noisier than he was when more than just inebriated. Ironic considering that there seemed to be very little 'peace' going on…

It was fine though. It was more than enough. 

Well…almost at least.

"Ho….now isn't that interesting?" Falling to the very last table, Soujiro couldn't help but smile at the occupant. It was faint…certainly nowhere near the first-class auras he had to deal with…but it was strong. A very focused ken-ki. Even more telling was at the patron's waist was the definite hilt of a katana. The shape and color seemed very familiar…very much so…in fact…Soujiro's eyes widened. "Sakabatou…? Himura's sakabatou…?" His eyes narrowed dangerously as his fist clenched. "Now boy…what would you be doing with such a thing?"

Well, there really was one way to find out. Picking up his bottle and dish, he made his way past the peace and into the company of those he felt most used to. The ones who had to live life with a blade by their side. 

"You have a very strong aura you know…" Sliding into the seat across the table from the swordsman, Soujiro bowed his head in greeting. "Even someone as insensitive as I can feel it." He wasn't as young as he looked …this boy…no, this young man, even as he directed a harsh glare in his direction.

"I would like to be alone for now. Leave."

Ignoring his response, Soujiro continued. "Guilt. Blame. Uncertainty…" Swirling his dish of sake lightly in one hand, he moved it across the table towards him. "Very strong emotions for someone's ken-ki to have. It seems to me that you could use this a lot more than I do." 

They eyed each other for a while, one with interest, the other with unbridled wariness. Shrugging, the young man picked up the dish and swallowed the sake in one go.

Laughing, Soujiro grinned. "Now there I go making the wrong assumptions again. You drink sake much better than I do."

"I've made a habit of being very irrational. Today is no exception."

"I can imagine. Soujiro. Seta Soujiro."

"Myoujin Yahiko."

Well, that did explain a lot. Soujiro recognized that name. The name of the brat that had always tagged along with the great Hitokiri of old. The boy who, although embracing the blade techniques of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, was still the flower of Himura Kenshin's hegemony. Of his Hiten Mutsurugi Ryu. Though they had never met face to face, Soujiro could relate to that boy very clearly.

_I was picked up by Shishio…from him I learned my Shukuchi…my name, the Tenken. And so what of you Myoujin Yahiko? _Soujiro felt his lip curl up. _Are you me then? Are you the me who would have been if I had been saved by your precious Himura Ken…_

Soujiro closed his eyes as the wave of bitterness crashed against him. He still had not been able to fully understand this part of Himura-san's philosophy. If the weak deserved to be protected, why had no one ever protected him? Why was it so important to protect the weak when the strong had left him forgotten to die?

Why of all the weak who deserved to be protected…was he the one who was so undeserving?

But that question had died a long while back. It was best to leave it there.

"Yahiko-ch…I mean kun…" A nervous looking waitress, perhaps two or three years younger than Yahiko, uneasily made her way to the table. Her blush grew increasingly more crimson the closer she came to the table. "Good evening." She briefly made eye contact with Soujiro before turning away. "Is he your friend?"

"No."

Soujiro smirked. "Well don't be so brusque." He softened it into a smile as he turned back to the girl. "I'd like to have another bottle of sake for Yahiko here miss. Naturally it's on my bill."

"Yahiko!" The girl's voice wasn't loud but very firm. "You shouldn't drink alcohol this late! Especially not from strangers."

_Am I just trying too hard to be nice here? _Soujiro was definitely beginning to sense a tragic pattern in store for himself.

"Be quiet Tsubame. You aren't my mother."

"But…"

"Just go get it or you'll lose your customers. Tae hates it when that happens doesn't she?"

"Yahiko-chan…"

Slamming a fist on the table, Yahiko snarled, "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me chan! I'm already an adult so cut that out! I'm tired of hearing you whine to me Tsubame so just leave already!"

She was close to crying. Though she seemed intent on refusing to let the tears flow, her eyes were already getting red. Sketching a quick bow, she quickly turned and ran back into the kitchen, disappearing around the corner.

"Well, all I can say is that I'm glad there are people like you. Makes me feel less like an idiot." Soujiro's smile had vanished and his eyes brooked no humor. Pouring himself a drink, he shook his head. "You might drink sake like a man, but it's pretty obvious you have no idea how to treat woman. Maybe I'm just stating the obvious, but she 'whines' so much to you because she likes you." He bit out acidicly, "Really you are an idiot."

"…what would you know?"

"Not much. In fact nothing at all. Which does make you all the more pathetic doesn't it?"

"Haven't you had enough to drink?"  
  


"Half. I will grant that this is half the alcohol talking. But that doesn't change the fact that although you hold his blade, you are nothing like Himura Battousai."

Yahiko's eyes shot open. "What did you say?"

"What did I…?" Trailing off, Soujiro grimaced as he smacked a palm against his forehead. "Oh fuck."

"Kenshin…how do you know Kenshin?" Yahiko's voice grew dark. "How do you know about his sakabatou?"

"I take it all back Yahiko-kun. I am incredibly more stupid than you." Reclining on his seat, Soujiro smirked, "Well, I am hardly in a position to nitpick my words. Why would I know Kenshin? Why would I know his sakabatou? Because under this gi I'm wearing, there's still a scar Battousai gave to me with that blade." His eyes narrowed. "Or more accurately, there's still a scar Battousai gave to me with his ougi."

"Amakake Ryu no Hirameki…"

"Very good. So even you know the name."

"I don't believe you…"

"Oh? Then tell me if he still uses the left foot."

"…" _So he does know the secret behind Kenshin's ougi…_

"I never asked you to believe me. Believe me if you want to…or if you don't. I personally have no preference. I wouldn't mind proving it to you if I had the evidence, but unfortunately, my blade did not survive the technique." Soujiro's tone grew sardonic, "Can you relate to me, Myoujin Yahiko?"

_I don't believe it…it can't be true…_

"Well, don't you seem surprised? Nothing left to say?"

"…what have you come here for?"

"To put it bluntly, to settle loose ends." 

"With a duel?" 

"…." Soujiro paused briefly as he stared at his distorted reflection on the rippling surface of sake. Lightly swishing the dish, he smiled. "That's probably how it will end…no matter what I do to…" He diverted his gaze back to Yahiko, "…and probably no matter what you do."

"Damn you!" The restaurant suddenly grew deathly silent as Yahiko jumped to his feet and the chair noisily clattered to the floor. Pointing at him, Yahiko yelled, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Wouldn't it be nice to be a bit more discreet? You have a very poor sense of composure." Soujiro remained unmoved by the dangerous glint in Yahiko's eyes. "I have no quarrel with you boy. I just find it strange that the blade which defeated the Tenken of the Juppon Gatana is lying on your sash right now."

"You were Juppon Gatana?"

"Tenken no Soujiro of the Juppon Gatana to be precise." Soujiro sketched a mock salute. "At your service sir."  
  


Staring at the man in the blue gi for a full second, Yahiko reached across his waist and slowly drew the sakabatou. Glinting in the cold light of the restaurant, the tip came within a few centimeters of Soujiro's nose. "I don't know what the hell that means…" Yahiko whispered softly, "But I've fought you Juppon Gatana before. This sakabatou has fought you Juppon Gatana before. If you've come back to start old fires, I will stop you." 

"You draw that blade too easily. I begin to see Himura's patience is completely lost on you. You think you can though?" Soujiro nonchalantly took another drink. "Himura could…but then again, you're nowhere near Himura."

"No…" Yahiko swallowed nervously. "No, as you say I am not."

Soujiro suddenly stood up and swatted the sakabatou away from his face. "You're giving yourself too much credit again. I didn't mean your blade. I meant in the way you act. The way you conduct yourself. Your ken-ki, your aura, and even the reason you're drawing your blade against me. You are nothing like Himura-san." His eyes narrowed. "I was content with leaving it at that, but I'm not now. You don't deserve that sakabatou you're holding, Myoujin Yahiko. And I'm going to prove it." Brushing past him and grabbing the table knife on the counter, he began heading towards the door. "Care to follow?"

With the barest amount of hesitation, Yahiko did. Together they exited the building and took their positions along the empty street. In a rush, the onlooking patrons quickly followed in their steps, crowding outside the Akebeko to get a better look at the spectacle ensuing.

The air was cool with still a warm breeze from the day blowing the sand gently across the road. The moon was rather clear in the cloudless sky and gave the street a somewhat silver lining. It made the blade of the sakabatou shine a quick silver. It made Soujiro's eyes seem that much flatter. Facing each other, Soujiro crossed his arms together. "So what are you waiting for? If I start old fires…if I seek to face Himura-san…you will stop me. Isn't that what you said?"

"I don't fight unarmed people."

"Really?" Sliding his arm into his right sleeve, Soujiro drew out the knife he had taken from the Akebeko. "Then this will have to do."

Yahiko's voice was incredulous. "You intend to duel me with cutlery?"

"No." Soujiro's smile widened as he began lightly tapping his right foot against the pavement. "I intend to dissect you."

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Hmmm….I really don't update enough. And too much games really works havoc on my now-secondary hobby. Ah well. Can't complain. And on a more serious note, do have fun reading. I don't write for you but I really can't expect you to believe that. Let's just say that if I am a writer, it would be very unbecoming to not have a reader. I don't write just to cater to my own ego after all. That's where you come in. See you on the other side. Update probably won't be very soon.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE VERSION 2: **By the way, I have hell formatting my paragraph breaks because something's weird. You will soon see so please take it with the customary grain of salt. Thank you.

**DISCLAIMER: **I WOULD WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR YOU NOBORU WATSUKI! THE FLAMES WOULD LICK AT MY FEET BUT IT WOULD NOT MATTER! FOR YOU NOBORU WATSUKI! FOR YOU!!!!

**Way The World Turns**

_What a strange person…_

But then again, most of the Juppon Gatana were already strange people to begin with. Holding his sakabatou steady, Yahiko ignored the slightly annoying tapping the sandal made with the ground. If anything, Soujiro was perhaps one of the stranger swordsmen he had ever seen. Holding the table knife loosely over his shoulder, he assumed neither ready stance nor any position. Bouncing up and down lightly on his right foot, he almost seemed to be waiting. Though he was smiling nonchalantly, his flat eyes were narrowed in concentration with a dull focus that just didn't feel right.

And then there was that other feeling…

Nothing. No coercion. No fear. But no read and no anticipation. Literally, a ken-ki dead zone. All he could really detect from Soujiro's movements and behavior was the slightest sense of amusement. The sarcastic air was just replaced by a condescending arrogance that made it difficult to concentrate.

"Well, let's begin." Soujiro voice was soft. "Try to keep up."

And quite literally, the ground beneath Soujiro's feet exploded. Before the dust had settled, a knife had already crashed against his sakabatou and drove him back two steps. Staring evenly at him through the sparks the blades created, Soujiro's smile didn't waver. "Don't think too hard."

"Shut up!" Breaking the lock, Yahiko grimaced as Soujiro dropped to a crouch and ducked under the return sweep.

"You're too slow anyway." Soujiro grabbed Yahiko's thigh with one hand and deftly spun his knife in the other. "One leg isn't worth anything." Without any hesitation, he plunged the knife as deep as it could go. Fortunately, the knife was designed to cut through cooked meat rather than raw muscle. The blunt edge certainly did much to hinder its progress.

But for the most part, the effects were not lost at all to Yahiko. Doubling over in pain, a quick elbow blow across the chest sent him spinning across the pavement before coming to a stop a good few feet away. If Soujiro even noticed the blood that had splashed onto his hand, it was impossible to read past the smile that never grew wider or smaller.

"Well, maybe I did underestimate your leg Yahiko-kun?" Soujiro mockingly pointed at his thigh. "You seem to have stolen my blade." The knife was still halfway embedded to the hilt through his leg. Crossing his arms, Soujiro laughed softly. "Well, I guess I'll just try harder."

It had been a long time since he had been stabbed by a real weapon. True the scars he had taken from past battles still had not completely disappeared, but to go close to five years without having spilled any blood in combat had dulled Yahiko's appreciation of its texture…its feel. There had been no hesitation in the strike at all. Struggling to his knee on his one good leg, Yahiko blinked away the sweat than had begun to build on his forehead. More than the pain, that unnerving smile was annoying him to no ends…that complete lack of bloodlust or blood joy.

"Don't you feel anything?" Yahiko growled, "Can't you stop smiling?"

"I wouldn't be worrying what I feel. After all, I told you I was going to dissect you. Instead…" Soujiro's voice grew softer. "I would be considering how you're going to try to hit me with a sakabatou you have no clue in wielding and a leg with a hole through it."

"Damn you."

Soujiro held out his hand innocently. "Well, let's not be unfair Yahiko-kun. I can hardly hope to defeat a swordsman of your caliber without a blade can I?"

There should have been sarcasm in that statement. At least some hint of what really was going on in Soujiro's mind. But there wasn't. All there was was that playful sense of amusement. Grimacing at the pain, Yahiko tore the blade out of his thigh and brusquely tossed it forward.

"You aren't like me at all are you? So very honorable." Bending forward to pick it up, Soujiro sketched a bow. "Thank you kindly."

_Why is he annoying me so much? I just can't stay calm when I'm fighting him…_Slowly getting to his feet, Yahiko glowered at Soujiro. _What is it about him?_

"Stop glaring at me. Come."

"Why are you still smiling?"

"…what are you talking about?"

"I'm asking you…" Forcing himself to his feet, Yahiko brought the sakabatou almost all the way around his back, "Why the hell are you annoying me so much!"

The final swing.

An impossibly fast blur and the warm coat of blood that received the cut.

Soujiro softly whispered into Yahiko's ear, "I've got a better question. How did you like it? My Shukuchi?" He chuckled softly. "You thought too much didn't you?"

"…you bastard…" Almost falling on Soujiro's body, the only thing bracing him up was the knife that was suddenly embedded in his stomach. Yahiko felt his pupils dilate as the feeling in his body began to go numb.

Giving the knife a slight twist, Soujiro smiled. "I echo your sentiments exactly."

"YAHIKO-CHAN!" Tsubame's scream came from somewhere in the crowd.

"There's always something very poetic about getting stabbed in the stomach. After all, that's how samurai commit seppuku isn't it?" Tearing out the knife, Soujiro tossed it easily to the side, a stream of blood spraying from the wound. "You're from a samurai family. You of all people should at least start to understand."

Unable to stand up straight, Yahiko collapsed to the pavement as the sakabatou clattered from his grasp. Placing a hand on his diaphragm, his hand felt slick with his own blood.

"Was it a genpukku present to you?" Picking the fallen blade up, Soujiro balanced it in his palm. "Ironic isn't it? Himura-san thought you worthy to be his successor."

"…"

"Now what could he be thinking…I just can't understand. You aren't stronger than Himura. You aren't even stronger than I am. Why give a sword to someone who isn't even strong enough to protect the weak?" Soujiro sighed, "It's just so confusing."

Two hits. That was all it took. Lying on the ground, Yahiko still couldn't believe it. Soujiro was fast…no, faster than Kenshin. He hadn't even finished his swing before taking the blow to the gut. He hadn't even been able to see Soujiro move before taking the blow to the gut.

_Is…is this really what I am?_

For so long he had wondered what it was to be truly strong. To be able to compete with the swordsmen of Kenshin's caliber. He always knew in the back of his mind that whenever he dueled with Kenshin in the past that Kenshin was holding back. How far…how much…he was never sure.

But like this. To be so completely far behind…

_What am I then?_ Yahiko felt a hollowness in his chest that wasn't just from the loss of blood. _What have I been doing?_

"The flesh of the weak is the food for the strong." Spinning the sakabatou around to the reverse edge, Soujiro slowly raised it above his head. "Something very interesting to decide to live by. Let's try it on you shall we Yahiko-kun?"

_What have I even fought for so long for?_

A small figure pushed her way from the crowd of spectators.

"STOP!"

Soujiro's eyes narrowed. "Now what are you doing?"

"STOP! PLEASE STOP!" Protectively covering Yahiko with her body, Tsubame looked back up at him, "You've won. Don't kill Yahiko-chan."

"Move aside. This doesn't concern you."

"No!"

"I'll kill you. Then I'll kill him." Soujiro's laugh was eerily hoarse. As if something was begin to crack. "Do you want to die for nothing?"

"…even if you say that…and even if it's true…I won't move."

"...What are you talking about?" Snarling in an almost desperate anger, Soujiro swiped the ground besides Tsubame. Tracing the slash back to her neck, the look in his eyes grew glassy. "Get out of my way! What can you do to protect him?"

Biting her lip, Tsubame held Yahiko tighter against her. "I don't know…but I won't stand aside and let you hurt him."

"Girl…" Involuntarily taking a step back, Soujiro's hands began shaking badly as he stared back at the small waitress. Running a hand through his hair, he winced in pain as if someone had just driven a rock through his skull. "What does it do…?"

It was happening again. Somewhere through the duel, the emotion lock had come back up again. And for the first time, Soujiro noticed the blood that had sprayed onto his sword arm and kimono. The texture and the color…it both attracted him and completely repulsed him. Turning his gaze back at what was happening in front of him, Soujiro's voice caught in the back of his throat.

"My…god…" His voice was a pained whisper.

A small girl whose robes were already starting to soak the blood from the pavement was bodily placing herself between his blade. A small girl who neither had a sword in hand or the actual courage to be asked to do such a thing. Her eyes were wet with fear and her tears and her lip was shaking badly as she tried to remain resolute. Resolute even when there was very little she was actually doing…and even less she could actually do to stop him.

Staring back at him, she whispered, "Don't do this…"

Don't.

It snapped. Completely snapped. Before he could even begin to feel the blinding pain in the back of his head, he screamed. What he screamed…what he was trying to say…was all lost in the crumbling abyss as his emotion lock completely shattered. Like before, his throat ran raw with screaming. Like before, he knew it was his scream because his throat ran raw.

_Somebody save me. Somebody protect me. No one will save you. No one wants to protect you. Kill them. Don't kill them. They're weak. You're weak. So kill them all. You'll be killed. Or you'll be killed. Food for the strong is the flesh of the weak. WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE ME?_

Staggering from the incoherency…the chaos of his thoughts, Soujiro gripped his head tightly with his left hand as if through force alone he could squeeze them away. Turning back, only dimly aware of where he was, who was watching him, and what he was still tightly holding in his blade arm, he ran. From the thoughts. The chaos and the screams. His screams and the screams of the memory that refused to die.

That image. That last clear image in his head…of that small girl crouched over her loved one, with her robes stained red…

That image followed him even after he couldn't run any longer.

**[PARAGRAPH BREAK]**

"…I'm sorry."

"Don't say anything Yahiko-chan."

"I'm sorry I made you cry…I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

"…"

Yahiko smiled. "I'm always like that. I get so cocky because I've won once. I think I'm so strong…and that I can do anything. And then someone stronger always comes…and I always need to depend on somebody to save me."

"That's not true. Yahiko-chan saved me a lot of times."

"But not this time Tsubame." Getting up, Yahiko winced as a shot of pain lanced through his side. "And that's the only time that really matters." Breaking into laughter, he smiled. "Isn't that funny though? In the end he was still smiling…in the end…" Bracing himself with his seiyuu he leaned against the wall, "…he took my genpukku sakabatou. Kenshin's treasured blade."

"Yahiko-chan…"

"Tsubame…what have I been doing all these years?" His voice cracked. "All for what?"

"To be like Kenshin…"

"But who am I then? Who am I if all I ever try to be is like someone else."

"…" Unable to respond, Tsubame nervously began putting away the medical supplies. "I'm…I'm not that good at being a doctor. Megumi-san can take care of you better than I can, Yahiko-chan."

"…Yahiko-chan…" Yahiko shook his head. "I tell you so many times not to call me that…and every time you say sorry. Why do you always call me that? We've each other for so long, and you still call me that. Haven't I grown up in your eyes? Haven't I changed even a little bit?"

"It's not that…" Inexplicably, Tsubame's face grew deep crimson as she averted her eyes. "It's not like that at all."

"…how am I going to explain this to Kenshin?" Unable to stop the shame, Yahiko slumped to the ground, "How am I ever going to explain any of this?"

**[PARAGRAPH BREAK]**

It was a rather sordid observation, but as the last convulsions racked his chest, Soujiro couldn't help but notice that vomit was not that different from blood. The way it splattered across any surface and the bitter smell of fluid was almost indistinguishable. The acidic tang of alcohol bit at the back of his mouth but with most of the sake dripping down his chin, it left more room for him to think…to breathe. Coughing, Soujiro took a deep breath and held it in his lungs for a long time.

"Ten years…"

For ten years that he had wandered, he had not been able to break his emotion lock. He did not want to kill. He had cried when he had killed…all of that was true. Himura-san had brutally branded that into his mind…perhaps more painfully than Shishio-san ever did. But what Himura could not understand was that his repression was more instinctual than taught. He had lost his own emotions out of choice rather than any tutelage or coercion.

Some things were better forgotten. Even things which should be remembered.

His head hurt badly. More than anything his head hurt. With it came the crystalline clarity that focused the world to a dull point. But it was, as always, a dark crystal. Clarity still did not mean he could see anything through it. And that was the frustrating part. To feel anger, remorse, and regret…but never being able to comprehend what they meant.

Or how to act upon them.

"Yumi-san…I really am stupid."

Fighting that boy really had no merit. And in fighting him, his emotion lock shouldn't have come into place. It wouldn't have made any difference even if his ken-ki could be detected or not…the boy didn't have either Kenshin's raw speed or experience to even begin keeping up with the Shukuchi.

And still…he had lost control of himself over an opponent so trivial.

_That girl…_

"Damn…" Gripping his head again, Soujiro bit back the wave of nausea, utterly failing as whatever remained in his stomach spilled back out onto the pavement of the alleyway.

That girl who willingly stared down the eyes of the Tenken…and though she was perhaps weaker than any who had done so before, there was nothing lacking in her eyes. She had fully intended to die protecting the person she held most important. Even if ultimately, her sacrifice would be completely in vain.

To love. To live. To die.

Myoujin Yahiko who had friends.

Who had the belief of the greatest swordsman ever and his blade as merit of that faith.

Who had a home to return to…and loved ones who would welcome him home.

And who had that small girl who looked at him with shy eyes and a deep blush whenever he was near. And who would set her beliefs, her love, and her life on the line to die at the hands of someone who had nothing.

In Myoujin Yahiko, lay everything Seta Soujiro was not. They had tread diametrically opposite paths. He had chosen the way of the sword. The blade and the death. To protect himself, Soujiro had forsaken protecting anyone else. To grow strong, he had abandoned ever having anything dear. To live life by himself and through himself.

Soujiro closed his eyes as the numbing uncertainty bore down on him. To be loved…to be protected. To live and love living…he had given that all up. Not even his smile and his indifference could negate that fact.

"Himura-san, if you had protected me…what would I have chosen? What would I become?" Soujiro slowly got up and began making his way out of the alleyway. "Damn it all to hell."

The moonlight arced across the sky and the glint of metal sparkled softly in the otherwise dark pavement. Pausing mid-step, Soujiro glanced at the sakabatou embedded in the concrete out of the corner of his eye. "Why did I carry you along?"

It was a strange blade. The edge reflecting the light curved the wrong way, making it seem as if someone had reached across and bent the shape of the katana the other way. It was a smooth silver edge, undulled by blood or the sharpness of another sword.

Soujiro's eyes narrowed. In the edge, his reflection coldly stared back at him.

"Stop that. I'm not in a mood to get mocked by a sword."

Turning around, he slid his hand around the hilt and pulled it up. It felt strange to once again hold a katana designed to be a masterpiece. The weight, the feel, and even the grip all meshed into a perfect symmetry. Swinging it lightly through the air, Soujiro felt an odd pang of reminiscence…like once again he was holding his Kiki-Uchi Monji again.

"But you crushed my precious katana like nothing…" Running a hand through the blunt edge, Soujiro sighed, "I still don't understand how." It was probably just one of those nights where nothing really made sense. "Well, whatever." Spinning the sakabatou, Soujiro placed it over his shoulder. "You're just one annoying blade. I don't want to deal with you. Let's see if I can return you to your real master." Soujiro smiled. "After all, I already destroyed his successor."

It was a heavy blade. The weight of the steel weighed heavily on his back. It made the night seem much longer than it probably was.

**[PARAGRAPH BREAK]**

"Kaoru-dono, where is Yahiko?"

"Yahiko? Oh, that's right, I got a message from Tae. Yahiko wants to stay at the Akebeko tonight."

"Oro?"

"That little brat!" Kaoru glowered, "Since when did he have enough time to flirt with Tsubame? I'm going to ream him out when he gets back."

"It's alright Kaoru-dono." Kenshin tried in vain to relax his wife. "It's not every night that we get to spend alone."

"Alone? Do you mean…?" _It's just going to be me and Kenshin…and tonight…and….and…_ Blushing, Kaoru squealed, "Kenshin you're so naughty!"

"….oro?"

"Just because we're husband and wife doesn't mean you get to think like that! When did you get so bold?"

"I think we have a misunderstanding…"

"But tonight!" Jumping into his arms, Kaoru neatly silenced the stuttering Kenshin with a long kiss on the mouth. It was amazing sometimes, what the most fundamental things could bring about. Probably at any rate. Slowly breaking off, she smiled, "But tonight, it really is just us. I'll make an exception just for you."

Well, there were probably many things worse than just making a simple misunderstanding. It was a human trait Kenshin could accept wholeheartedly. Well, if he was inclined to think much at all.

"Kaoru…dono?"

"I don't mind when you use dono by my name Kenshin. Because when you say it, I never feel like it's just another title. Because you've said it to me when you said I'm home…when you told me you loved me." Kaoru whispered softly, "But I'm going to have to do something about that tonight…so make an exception just for me." Pushing Kenshin playfully away from her, she smiled languidly. "I'll be waiting."

The door clicked shut behind her and the night sky left Kenshin wondering how such a cold wind did so very little to cool him down. Perhaps it had been a very precipitous chain of events after all. Kenshin laughed softly to himself. "Hai, Kaoru-dono."

"You know, Himura-san, I once saw Yumi do the exact same thing to Shishio-san. I must admit however, your woman is far more direct about it."

"…if you wanted to catch me surprised, you should do better." A slight pause. "Though you probably won't believe me, I am somewhat relieved to see you."

"We do have much to discuss anyway."

"Ten years is a long time."

"Not really." Stepping from the shadows behind the sakura tree, Soujiro shrugged. "But that's just opinion. By the way Himura-san, I believe I have something that might belong to you." A soft clink of metal against the unpaved soil. "But then again, who do you think it belongs to? That's just opinion too."

"…"

"I expected that look in your eyes." Soujiro neither flinched nor moved from the dark glare Kenshin slowly turned at him. Crossing his arms, his eyes were similarly hard. "Much like you, I have much to atone for. Even if you can willingly step aside from the past, I will judge who will succeed you. As one who was defeated by you, it is my responsibility. Himura-san, pick up the blade and answer me. That too is your responsibility."

"Be that as it may…" Kenshin made no move to grasp what used to be his. "…you should not have involved Yahiko."

"…I beg your pardon…" Soujiro averted his eyes. "Yes. That would have been for the best. I beg your pardon for that Himura-san." Sighing, Soujiro grimaced. "I have been unable to find it. The answer…the truth that I told myself I would find after ten years of wandering. Shishio found his answer…you found yours. My emotion lock I have been unable to break. The small boy you did not protect…I have not been able to let go."

"What happened?"

"I would have killed him, Himura-san." Soujiro's voice was pained. "And I would have done so with your sakabatou. And I cannot explain why I would even want to do so. I have not changed at all over these ten years. I am still the Tenken no Soujiro. What have I been doing all this time? What was so different between us? It should be obvious…" Soujiro's fist was trembling. "It should be obvious…but it isn't."

"The skill with the blade has not dulled upon you Soujiro. I can tell that very easily. What have you chosen to do with it?"

"…I didn't want to kill…really…" Soujiro took a step forward, as if begging Kenshin to believe him. "And in those ten years, I still did not want to kill. But…" Frustrated, Soujiro exploded, "The world doesn't give a damn what I believe. The Meiji Era was supposed to change all that, but the world has stayed exactly the same way. It doesn't care about protecting anything!" He slammed a fist against the sakura. "So I couldn't stop it. So even though I did not wish any of them to die…they did…and by my hand." Soujiro laughed hollowly. "That is the path I have never chosen, but I have always tread. What do you make of it? Is it not laughable? I cannot even live by my own principle. Tell me how laughable it is…Himura-san."

"I will neither laugh or mock you. My path of atonement did not run easy…but our paths were never similar from the beginning. Like your childhood…I cannot even begin to understand what you have gone through. Like now, I still cannot understand."

"…then pick up your sakabatou and rectify that situation. You made me understand something so clearly through your ougi once ago. I believe you can do so again."

"...if such a thing were possible anymore…" Kenshin smiled ruefully, "If only your solution was so simple."

"Eh?"

"Hiten Mutsurugi Ryu is the ultimate godlike technique. In strength and speed it cannot be comparably surpassed. When pressed, the techniques of Hiten know no limits…but the same cannot be said of the user."

"…"

"Megumi-dono requests that I take a bitter tea every night to prevent my muscles from deteriorating any more. She also asks that I don't leave Tokyo without her prescribing medication. Kaoru-dono nags me constantly about not wearing enough warm clothes and goes into hysterics if she even sees me cough. She spends too much money buying me medicine that I'm not sure even works." Kenshin smiled. "And I've felt it within my heart. Hiten Mutsurugi Ryu…my Hiten Mutsurugi Ryu…has been rendered completely ineffective."

"I don't believe it…" Soujiro disbelievingly stared at him. "That cannot be the truth."

"I've become a father, Soujiro. My son will always love the mother more than he will ever love me, but I will still be able to watch him grow in an era that does not necessitate the sword. And if I am fortunate…I will live to see my son have his son. I have given up the blade to let that happen. To accept that which I can no longer do…and embrace what I thought I never could do."

"…but you were the Battousai…no…" Soujiro shook his head. "You're Himura Kenshin!"

"I cannot compare with your Shukuchi, Soujiro. I barely did before." Sighing, Kenshin asked quietly, "What are the extent of Yahiko's wounds?"

"…he won't fight for a week or two. He took a knife to the stomach and leg."

"Perhaps that is the greatest irony. The same morning, Yahiko laid me out against the dojo wall with one hit."

"…"

"That is all I can say. I will fight Soujiro. But I cannot fight with a blade anymore. If you seek a battle of truth, then you have already found it. But it is as I have always said. You cannot find any truth through victory or defeat. You have defeated Yahiko. Even unarmed, you could probably kill me with even less effort. And then you will be the strongest…but will you find the truth you seek? I cannot say you will. You are free to try, but I still cannot say you will."

"You are a harsh taskmaster. I knew it from the beginning. You would never begin to give me an answer but you would expect me to find it all by myself." Soujiro cracked a bitter smile. "Same old isn't it?"

"Some things are best left unchanged."

"…but I too have reached a very strange crossroad. On one hand I am the Tenken. On the other hand I am Soujiro. Now where have I heard that before? Himura Kenshin? Himura Battousai?" Soujiro's eyes narrowed. "I wonder sometimes. When I think about it clearly…I can come to only one conclusion."

"Oh?"

"You met your woman. You met the chicken head. You met the boy. You who walked alone found the people who were willing to walk with you. The clairvoyance to walk with you. How fortunate isn't it?"

"…perhaps."

"So that is the story of the great Himura Kenshin. The real truth behind the killer. He got lucky. The dice fell and landed the right way." Soujiro glowered, "If I am at all incorrect, please tell me otherwise. If not, lend me some rope so I can hang myself right here and save all of use a lot of trouble."

"No, that probably is what my story really is. I found these people…and in them I found my answer to atone for my sins."

"Well, does Kaoru have a long lost sister you might want to introduce me to? By all means, I am quite open to suggestion." Soujiro did not laugh at the rhetoric. "I have not had your fortune. And I can say that I do not have your mindset. We should be the same…but we aren't."

"…giving up the blade…we can't do it. Can we?" Kenshin smiled. "I still can't. Even now. Kaoru doesn't like it, but at heart I am still the swordsman. Was it the same for you?"

"…something like that."

"That is why we are the same." Kenshin nodded to the sakabatou, "But at heart, that is why we are different."

"A moot point considering I could easier wield a kitchen knife then I could your reversed blade."

"Is that your final answer?"

"…Himura-san…" Soujiro's voice was laced with disbelief, "Allow me to state this as bluntly as possible. I would rather use the bone in my right arm as a blade than even try to use your blunted stick."

"And that is why I am asking you to take it. Because when you do learn how to wield my blunted stick, only then can you come back and tell us we are truly the same. Then, if you still have not found your answer, will what has happened to me be truly completely fortune. And then…if you so wish, I will fight you."

"You said so yourself that Hiten Mutsurugi Ryu has been rendered useless."

"So I did." Kenshin's voice did not waver. "Do you believe that is completely true?"

It should have been easy to be skeptical. Though the moon was quite clear tonight, the silver linings in Kenshin's hair were more than just the glow. The harsh crossed lines in his cheek were growing less pronounced but the lines edging around his eyes, the lining of his muscles, and stressing his mouth had risen to take their place. The Ken-ki was there but had lost much of its edge. It no longer exuded the dominance he had felt so long before. Much like everything about Kenshin, it had waned.

But the eyes.

Nothing had diminished there. The focus that did not break away or falter. And the challenge that took nothing for granted. In Kenshin's eyes, it was all reflected.

Kenshin's body might not be able to keep up with the spirit, but that had never been the problem. If pressed, Soujiro had no doubt the failures of the body could ever keep up with the unyielding determination Kenshin possessed more than any other person he had ever met. Conviction. The utmost faith. That was a shield almost as effective as his blade of Hiten.

It was that conviction that was the basis behind his Amakake Ryu no Hirameki. The fine line that set him apart from Soujiro's greater strength and incomparably faster Shukuchi.

Himura Kenshin may have let go of the blade, but as his namesake went, he was still the heart of the blade. That would never change.

"…" Soujiro grudgingly conceded. "And what of Yahiko-kun?"

"Do not misunderstand me. The genpukku present I gave him still stands. It will always be his as long as he has the strength to grasp it. Consider this a loan. When all is said and done, I intend for you to return it." Kenshin grasped the hilt of the sakabatou and neatly spun it around. Holding the blade easily on his palm, he extended the hilt back to Soujiro. "But while you do have it, make the best of it. That is all I expect…and all you should expect."

"Why?" Soujiro asked. "Why him? In that boy how did you see your successor?"

"Why him is it? Because he wanted to be strong…" Kenshin's eyes flashed towards his. "And he knew what he wanted when he achieved that strength."

"…which is…"

"…something I am sure never even crossed your mind Soujiro. Your incredible talent and creativity. The hours you put behind your swordsmanship. Truth to be told, I could never defeat your strength. You did that for me. But for what? Why be strong? Why even fight?"

"You think I fought for no reason?"

"No. I think you fought to become strong. I think you became strong for no reason."

"And your sakabatou might rectify that situation?"

"Why don't you come back and tell me?"

"Because, frankly…" Soujiro grimaced, "How do I put this…I hate your guts."

"Oro?"

"Yes. That oro too. That aggravates me to no end." Grabbing the hilt suddenly, Soujiro spun it across his palm and jabbed at Kenshin's neck with the bladed edge. Shearing across Kenshin's red hair, a large clump fell to the ground where the wind neatly picked up the pieces and scattered them across the courtyard. Soujiro lined the blade up against the nape of his neck and pressed just gently enough so the edge indented the skin rather than pierce it. "Couldn't you at least try to act less nonchalant? I know you're serious but I can't help but stay just a bit skeptical."

"Same goes for you."

"En gaurde." Soujiro grinned. "A very good answer." Lowering the blade, he paused and just stared at Kenshin. As if trying for the first time, to understand this strange person. "10 years…has it really been that long?"

"Amazing. I must agree."

"…has it been kind?"

"Enough. Everything else I've just learned to deal with."

"Is it so bad? Not being strong? Is it so bad letting your woman protect you for a change?"

"…when it becomes difficult to wake up in the morning, you might almost consider it a blessing."

"Considering its much better to go back to sleep with her besides you."

Kenshin arced an eyebrow, "Are you trying to tease me Seta Soujiro?"

"You never did have a sense of humor." Soujiro grinned. "But coming here was a good idea. There really is something about you…something that I doubt you give yourself enough credit though."

"Oh?"

"But I'll let you figure it out yourself…old man."

"…go back to Kyoto."

"Eh?"

Kenshin smiled gently. "I hated that city for so long…but when I went back, I found a lot of peace there. It's where it all began for me…and for you."

"…oddly nostalgical of you…I think it's the first time I've ever heard a straight answer come from your mouth." Trailing off, Soujiro nodded his head curtly. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Take your time though. Maybe you've never slowed down all this time…so even if you did see anything, you never could get more than just a glimpse. Spring is coming. The Kyoto trail is going to be quite beautiful."

"Sure." Turning around, Soujiro snapped his fingers. "I'll tell you all about it."

The boy had changed. Not a lot. Probably not enough. But ten years was not wasted. The soles of his sandals were scuffed but not worn. He had slowed down and started to live…without a smile that so easily disguised everything. Time was on Soujiro's side, whether he knew it or not. Just because it took Kenshin ten years to finally find out his truth didn't mean that applied to him. Time would heal all wounds.

Kenshin stroked his cheek.

All of them.

But a nudge in the right direction was never a bad thing.

**[PARAGRAPH BREAK]**

"Go to Kyoto…beautiful sakura…" Soujiro grimaced at the barren trees lining the roadside. "Himura, I just KNEW you HAD to be taking something to make you hallucinate that badly."

It was probably even the wrong season for sakura to begin blooming. After all, the air was probably far too cold and dry for blossoms. Kyoto was not a popular place this time of year, with most people seeking warmer climate and more hospitable décor down south. As it was, railroad transportation had made walking down the godforsaken trade highways completely obsolete.

Modernization led to isolation…as it was…of course.

"But not seeing anyone…" He smiled to himself, "…being by yourself…that isn't so bad…is it?"

"That really depends on your state of mind…doesn't it?" Sitting easily just by and above the roadside, a man garbed in a rather garish white cloak mockingly raised a sake dish at him. "But that's a thought I can drink to."

He had been trying his best to ignore that disturbance. Shooting him an annoyed glance, Soujiro shook his head. "A bit cold to be drinking sake isn't it?"

"Of course not." He poured another dish. "Only when something is wrong with your heart does sake become hard to drink."

"Then I'll be on my way…and leave you with that thought."

"You are an impatient brat." The man chuckled. "Just like my idiotic pupil said."

"…." Soujiro paused and scrutinized him carefully. "Oh?"

"He told me you might need some help. But like always, that idiot never gives me enough details to work with. Normally I would tell him to leave me alone but he was very adamant about you. He's very eloquent when he wants to be."

"No, I would never have guessed." Soujiro felt his lip curl into a feral smile. "But that is interesting. May I inquire just who I am talking to?"

"It's impolite to be sarcastic with a straight face. You're just as disrespectful as that idiot pupil." Getting up, the man brought out a katana cased in a wooden sheath from the folds of his cloak. "But the best usually always are disrespectful.13th Master of Hiten Mutsurugi Ryu…Hiko Seijuro."

"…well what do I say to that…?" Soujiro grinned, "That does deserve an oro."

tbc


End file.
